The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Chapter 379 Spring rain

"Rowan, stop!"

The blond looked at his old friend with regret, cataloguing the myriad expressions that crossed his face: confusion, anger, sorrow, shock. Sebastian's gaze then drifted slowly to Rowan's blade; bloodied, evidence that he truly was the monster who had killed the champion and the shaman.

"Farewell, Sebastian."

The air around Rowan seemed to boil and shimmer. Then with a cracking sound, the blond disappeared right where he had been standing.

Sebastian was rooted to the ground, hardly able to believe that Rowan was what the king had accused him to be - an agent of darkness. He had dismissed the king's suspicions; outright laughed at it when he had seen the contents of the letter. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. Two dead bodies, servants of the holy ones, mocked at the small kernel of faith he still had in his old friend.

"Priestess, are you okay?" One of the royal guards asked Dinah, shattering the silence that Rowan had left behind.

Sebastian watched her take a deep shuddering breath. Everything he saw in the room told him that Rowan was the villain in this scenario.

"Let the king know that I request an audience immediately," she replied after composing herself.

Sebastian shook his head at the useless thoughts that were clogging his brain. He knew Rowan. The anti mage wasn't a cold killer who would commit such an atrocity against humanity. Until he heard it from the mouth of Rowan himself, Sebastian was going to reserve judgement and hope that his friend had a damn good reason for what he had done.

____________

Three days later, Rowan stepped out of the relentless rain and carefully folded the waxed paper umbrella in his hand.

Altaire and the sleeping Syryn were at Clearwater, obfuscated from watchful eyes that were looking to strike at Rowan's weakness. The senior alchemist had heard about what Rowan had done in Elysium but he knew to remain silent and watch the events unfold without interfering too much. If he hadn't met and spoken to Seth, Altaire wouldn't have been helping the man who was being branded an agent of darkness by the King himself.

"You're back," Altaire said without turning around. He was seated out on the balcony, protected from the heavy rain by a wooden awning.

Rowan wordlessly sat beside him and watched the falling curtain of water that separated them from the rain.

"You make me question myself, Windwalker," Altaire spoke after a few minutes spent in silence. "Which side am I on?"

Good versus evil - the alchemist didn't believe that such a clear demarcation existed. The whole world was painted grey, but some parts were darker than the others.

"I don't know."

Altaire brooded upon Rowan's reply. It wasn't the answer he desired.

"Then what do you know?"

Rowan let his head fall back against the wood wall. His bright blue eyes were unfocused as he let himself remember why he was on a warpath against the powers that he should have been fighting for.

"I know that I will win."

_________

Artemus,

You will find Alka safe and sound at home in Elysium. I apologise for the distress and trouble I've caused you. If your heart still remains charitable towards me, I will explain someday why I had to do it.

-Rowan Windwalker

____

One month later.

Lucien was back home in the manor, trying to force his broken life into a semblance of normalcy.

Alka had been returned safely. That was great. A big relief for everyone. But then he found out that Rowan had been responsible for Alka's disappearance and he didn't know why. Not so great anymore. But that wasn't the only shocking news he had received. Rowan had also kidnapped his brother and disappeared. Rowan had killed two people at the palace. Rowan was working for the demons.

"A load of bullshit," he told himself for the hundredth time when the intrusive thoughts about Rowan came to disturb him. The blond anti mage had been like a father to him, watched him grow, showed him the strength in kindness. Rowan had been the hand that moulded him in the softer ways that Syryn had never been able to.

Frustration crackling like a ball of lightning in his chest, Lucien closed his eyes and hugged his knees to his chin. He was a grown man but the redhead wasn't shy about crying in the privacy of his room where no one would see how weak and overwhelmed he was by everything happening to him.

A faint knocking sounded on his door. "Lucien, can I come in?"

Magnus waited for the redhead to say something but it was silent from within. He placed his forehead on the door, feeling the coolness of the wood on his skin.

"Lulu, please..."

What was he even asking for? Lucien was suffering but he didn't want anybody to know. Rowan had rudely turned their world on its axis and there was nothing he could do or say that could comfort Lucien.

"Magnus," he heard Lucien's voice from behind the door. "I just need a few minutes."

"I'm depressed, Lulu. I need a hug."

There was a few seconds of silence. The door opened and Lucien stood there, eyes puffy from having cried alone.

Arms went around his midsection and Magnus returned Lucien's hug, rubbing circles on the redhead's back.

"Lulu, this too will end someday."

"When we die?" Lucien asked as he looked up into the fire mage's dark eyes.

A hand snaked through his red hair, teasing his scalp with warm and gentle touches.

18:31

"No. Maybe." He was so bad at this. Even Magnus knew that the odds were stacked against them. He wasn't the kind that could speak false words of hope no matter how much the listener needed to hear them.

Lucien let out a snort of amusement. The fire mage was not a good source of comfort but he kept going back to him every time Magnus called. Feeling a surge of courage that came from the madness he was surrounded by, Lucien put his arms around the fire mage's neck; And Magnus went stiff as he realised what the redhead intended to do.

"I love you," Lucien whispered to him.

The fire mage's heart stopped and he felt the world slow down around him.

"Don't say anything, Magnus."

Because Lucien knew he had to go away someday. He could pretend that Magnus didn't care about him the way he did. As the dark-haired mage stared at him in complete shock, paralysed, Lucien stood on his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Magnus' in a tender kiss that tasted of spring rain.

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